


Phrasing

by AgentRose22



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Grimmons, M/M, Sarge really needs to learn about phrasing, Slight Smut, Takes place in season 11, he's seen some shit man, i am so sorry for my shitty ass writing, i don't think I'll ever write proper smut, i used some episode dialogue, kind porn but not, oh my god do I try, poor wash's eyes, simmons is sexually frustrated, swearing cause rvb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 18:05:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5385239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentRose22/pseuds/AgentRose22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on season 11, Sarge thinks making Grif share half of the base with Simmons, might make Simmon's kiss ass personality rub off on Grif, even just slightly, but to his dismay he doesn't realise they would rub off on each other in a completely different way (bow chicka bow wow)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phrasing

Simmons was getting real sick of everyone at Red base, Sarge griping about the bases 'condition' and Grif just being Grif, he could usually deal with them being idiots, but when they were short on food and their living conditions were downright shitty, he was bound to have a shorter fuse, even when dealing with their leader, who he usually never questioned.  
“Hey Grif when I build the bridge, should I use a few sandbags?, or you know, something fucking useful?”, Simmons griped clutching his gun to his chest in annoyance,   
Grif had been ordered by Sarge to build a wall through the base, separating it in half for some reason, and obviously he didn't do it,   
well at least not until he heard Sarge entering the base,   
then he kicked a bunch of sandbags on top of one an other half assedly, and played it off like he had meant to do such a shitty job,   
what did he care, its not like anyone had high expectations for him by now,   
especially Sarge, who really should have known better than trying to get Grif to work. 

Sarge, quickly butted in after the Maroon soldiers outburst to cut off the soldiers arguing,   
“useful or not, I herby declare from this point forward, this side of the wall is to be reserved for my own personal ears” he stated in a matter of fact tone,   
what could the soldiers do about it anyways, he was still in charge, even after the horrific crash that caused hundreds to die, its not like that was his fault.   
“Wha- wait wait wait, you get half of the base all to yourself, what about me and Grif?!” Simmons exclaimed, voice cracking slightly under his helmet,   
as if the concept of being alone with Grif made him nervous.   
Sarge grinned maniacally under his visor,   
his plan to make Simmons rub off on Grif was finally going into action,   
back in Blood Gulch the two of them were always together, but not in close quarters, since they had their own rooms, but now Sarge could finally put his perfect plan to use, and hope that it would work, because if he took a gamble and it went south, he may end up with two Grifs and just one was one too many in his opinion. 

“Sorry Simmons, afraid I can't hear you from the next room, these walls are just too thick” Sarge yelled smirking, as he moved away from the makeshift wall,   
“b-but I...” Simmons squeaked,   
“enjoy your new room mate!” Sarge shouted again,   
as if he hadn't heard Simmon's protests,   
before walking off laughing like a mad man, he couldn't wait to see if his plan would work or not.   
Simmons and Grif stood in silence for a few seconds,   
staring gob smacked after their leader, who had dropped the news on them like an atomic bomb.  
Before Grif turned to Simmons with a scowl, “ground rules, if there's a sock on the door, do not come in” he stated gruffly glaring at the soldier in Maroon,   
Simmons glared back almost as if he could tell Grif was doing the same under his visor,   
“but we don't have socks, or a door!” he protested,   
not exactly understanding what Grif was hinting at until he continued bluntly,  
“and I don't have an internet connection, but we've all gotta to find some way to masturbate now don't we?” he dead panned,  
“your disgusting!” Simmons squeaked, and tried to stop the blush from appearing on his face, thanking whoever designed their helmets for covering the entirety of their faces,   
he then turned tail before Grif could say anything else, and ran up to the top of the base to sort out his things, not wanting Grif's gross hands touching anything now that he knew where they had been.

Not a few hours later, Simmons was looking through his hygiene pack confusion written all over his pale freckled face, his tooth brush was missing, and he wouldn't understand why anyone would steal his toothbrush out of all things,   
he knew Sarge wasn't the culprit, he hadn't left his side of the base since that morning's announcement, any other day he would have asked Donut where it was,   
since the Private in lightish red liked to switch out everyone's hygiene supplies every so often to be helpful and to boost hygiene,   
which Simmons had no issue with,   
in fact he had been grateful when he would find a new pack of toothpaste from the Reds storage, tucked away in his pack, that was the only thing Simmons could tolerate about Donut, glad that someone held high standards of cleanliness other than himself on Red Team.   
But with the cheery soldier back in Valhalla with Doc, he had no one left to blame but Grif, because he was damn sure none of the Blues had gotten into his shit.

He knew he would get no where with Grif by yelling at him to return his toothbrush, so he casually walked up behind the lazy soldier in orange and called out to him in a marginally friendly way,   
“hey roomie, uh you got a second for me?” he asked,   
Grif turned to him, sensing immediately that something was off,   
“sup..?” he trailed off treading lightly,   
“oh you know not much not much, uh so question for you?” Simmons asked not so subtly,   
Grif raised an eyebrow under his orange helmet, letting out a small “uh huh?” coaxing Simmons to go on, because he knew what this was about and preyed the maroon soldier wouldn't ask too many questioned about it or he would be majourley fucked.  
“by any chance, you know, have you seen my toothbrush?” he asked, passive aggressiveness seeping out from his tone of voice,   
Grif played for time hoping for a distraction, “uhhhhh, I don't think so” he lied obviously,   
“okay okay, uh, are you sure?” Simmons probed once more, giving Grif another easy out,   
“yeah” Grif dead panned obviously not going for it,   
Simmon's raised an eyebrow trying not to lose it, “huh...cause you know I'm pretty sure I saw you with it earlier” Simmons, gritted out.

“Dude your acting weird” Grif tried to change the subject casually, by pointing out the obvious,   
Simmons now tried to play it off, “hmm, what, what do you mean?” he asked flustered,   
“clearly your accusing me of taking your toothbrush, but instead of just coming out and saying it your being really passive aggressive and tip toeing around the accusation” he stated,  
“huh?...” Simmons trailed off, his panicking brain not giving him anything to say.  
“You did the same thing when I left the lights on, and when I put my boots on your side of the room” Grif muttered crossing his arms,   
Simmon's eyes narrowed under his visor and he let out a strained “mhumm”,   
but Grif continued to rant, “and I feel like there's this constant tension growing between us, that is inevitably going to erupt, over what would normally be considered a small issue”,   
Simmons paused for a second, taking in what was supposed to be a calming breath before continuing on his hunt for answers, “yeahh well you know I wouldn't be asking you about my toothbrush, if I hadn't seen you with it earlier..” he probed, distinctively remembering seeing something red in Grif's hand as he passed by him earlier on, that was obviously a toothbrush.  
Grif flushed under his orange helmet, as he quickly muttered, “I used your toothbrush” glad that Simmon's was just to mad to wonder why Grif had taken it,   
“you fuck!” he yelled, finally letting his anger out, which inevitably as Grif had said, would happen, caused a large scale argument, which made Simmons sulk off to his and Grif's shared room, whilst the orange soldier directed Agent Washington to the Blues toolbox.

Later on Simmons sat on his makeshift bed,   
which had surprisingly survived the crash with only a few scrapes and chips,   
his arm lay under his head as he read over an old instruction manual for the warthog, since there wasn't much else to read, unless Grif's porn counted as good reading material,   
he didn't even flinch as Grif came plundering in,   
shoving off pieces of his armour as he walked to his bunk,   
Simmons turned to glare at Grif who had slumped onto his bed, half out of his body suit and half in, obviously to tired from a day of doing nothing to pull the rest of it off.  
Simmons let out an agitated sigh, placing the manual he was holding onto his bed and running a hand through his unruly red hair, “hey fatass pick up your shit” he hissed,   
done being passive aggressive now that Grif was aware he was actively pissing him off,   
Grif opened one eye and snorted, “clean it up yourself kiss ass” he murmured into his arm,   
with a sigh and a roll of his eyes Simmons stood and began to pick up pieces of orange armour, stacking them with his, but as he bent over to pick up the last piece he was vaguely aware of a pare of eyes on him.

Stiffening he stood up and placed the last piece of Grif's armour away,   
before turning to the lazy Hawaiian,   
“what the fuck are you looking at?” he hissed cheeks darkening at the orange soldiers sultry look,   
“just admiring the view, nice ass” he grinned,   
Simmons shrieked, face a few shades lighter than his armour, “are you drunk, or have you just been spending to much time with Tucker?!” he yelled placing his hands on his hips,   
ignoring the grin Grif was sporting.  
“What? I told you we've all gotta find a way to get off, Dick, and some of us need to more than we are willing to admit” he smirked wiggling his eyebrows,  
“and just what are you getting at?” Simmons growled, moving closer to where Grif lay,   
Grif frowned, “look its obvious you need a way to let your frustration out other than yelling at me, maybe this way we can both get what we need” he dead panned, grasping Simmon's limp wrist and pulling the skinny soldier on top of him.   
Simmons squeaked trying to move off of the soldier under him,   
“Grif, let me go, what..?!”,   
Grif smirked, letting out a small groan as Simmons shifted on top of him,   
“keep going on like that and I won't want to” he chuckled huskily, grasping Simmon's hands as he sat up slightly, making the red head sit on his lap. 

Grif grinded their lower halves together relishing in the gasp that left the freckled soldier lips, as they made contact through the thin body suits they only had on,   
Simmon's bit his lip, tilting his head back,   
as Grif pressed wet kisses onto the skin of his neck, being tentative around his robot parts,   
it was only then when Grif moved back to look at his handy work,   
did Simmons yell “you made me mad on purpose didn't you Dexter?!”   
Grif smirked lazily, “maybe I did, but it was worth your anger” he chuckled,   
Simmon's shot him a glare, and ignored the throb of need that shot through his body as Grif lazily ground up into him, by smashing their lips in a messy kiss, heart leaping in his throat.   
The two of them were so engrossed in finally breaking the sexual tension between them, that they didn't hear Sarge yelling at them,   
asking them (Simmons) if they knew where Washington's soldering iron was,   
not until it was too late anyway,   
Sarge poked his head into the doorway,   
Washington not far behind him,  
“Simmon's you know if we have Agent Washington's....”, the question died on his lips as he saw both of his soldiers in lip lock,   
who hadn't even noticed they were there,   
Sarge backed out of the doorway slowly,   
Washington not far behind, who coughed awkwardly,   
“I'll be back for it later, I'm sure we have a spare somewhere”, before high tailing it out of the base at break neck speed,   
Sarge let out a small sigh, before going into a full frontal yell of “that was not what I meant by using the phrase 'rub off on him' goddamn it!”.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading, I really tried my best with this even though its kinda shitty so please only positive criticism if any, comments are always welcome ^ u ^ sorry I haven't done much writing, but my college course work is kicking my ass but hopefully during Christmas break I can write something else, thanks again for reading x


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